Ringless
by Tigerlily Brown
Summary: Chapelle said he didn't have anyone to tell of his death - but what about the wedding ring? Would she really not care? The story of the woman he once married and still loved, her reconciliation of his death, and President Palmer's apology.


Alexandra Claire Miller, once known as Ali Chapelle, tugged nervously on her black dress, adjusted her sweater, and entered the church. She hadn't been to one since she was a child – neither she nor her husband was particularly religious, which only added to her discomfort, as if she wasn't feeling out of place enough already. The room was packed to the brim with analysts and field agents alike – most were probably only there out of obligation. Ryan had an uncanny knack for infuriating anyone who crossed his path, but she was surprised with how many of them wore truly mournful expressions. Ali herself kept her feelings masked behind a stony façade and took a seat near the front, zoning out from the host of people around her.

"We all said such awful things behind his back," said a voice choked with tears.

"Shh, it's all right, darlin','" someone else mumbled. "I'm as much at fault for that as you are."

Ali looked over to see a man with short cropped hair and one arm in a sling awkwardly holding a petite young woman to his chest. All she could see of the girl was a shock of white blond hair. Someone else hung back and watched the couple – she vaguely recognized him as Jack Bauer. He looked away quickly.

He was the one who had first told her...

_Ali sat on the couch, munching on a ham sandwich and watching the news. She was just wondering whether CTU had anything to do with the commotion at the Chandler Plaza Hotel when the telephone rang. Sipping her tea, she muted the television and answered, "Hello?"_

_An unfamiliar gravelly voice inquired, "Is this Alexandra Miller?"_

"_Yes," she frowned a little. "May I ask who's calling?"_

"_My name is Jack Bauer. I'm the Director of Field Operations at the Los Angeles Counter-Terrorist Unit. I..." he faltered, "I have some bad news."_

"_What's wrong? Is this about Ryan?" she sat back down on the couch, eying the television. She hadn't had any contact with her ex-husband for months._

"_Ryan..." Jack gave up on formalities and cut to the chase. "He's passed away… I wanted to tell you myself."_

_Ali's mouth formed the words, "Oh my God," but no sound came out as the hand holding the phone hung limp at her side. She could hear Bauer asking if she was there, but she didn't respond. Her eyes traveled unfocused to the image of chaos on the screen before her._

Flanked by four Secret Service agents, a man entered the room with such commanding presence that heads turned and the crowd parted like the Red Sea.

Ali blinked as President David Palmer made his way over to her. "Mr. President?" she stuttered.

"Could I have a word?" his deep voice resonated even in the packed cathedral. When she nodded, a bit taken aback and strangely speechless, he guided her to a less populated area. "I understand that you are Ryan Chapelle's wife?"

"Ex-wife." The correction that usually came automatically, and not without a certain degree of annoyance, now sounded like a curse from her lips.

"How much have you been told about Director Chapelle's death?"

Ali gulped and recited, "Only that he sacrificed himself for the good of the country."

The president's voice took on a diplomatic tone as he paced back and forth. "I am not fond of cover stories in any way, shape, or form. I will be the first to admit that I made many mistakes that fateful day. My constant mantra has been that America does not negotiate with terrorists – but I failed my own policy and went against my better judgment." Turning to face her he said, "I sanctioned the murder of an innocent man."

Ali's mouth dropped open a fraction. "Mr. President..."

David Palmer was not a man to leave anything hanging. He still felt immense guilt for the blood on his hands, but there was little he could to do wipe them clean. "I think it's time you learned the truth." His troubled black eyes penetrated hers as he reached the point where he had stopped planning what to say. "I authorized Ryan Chapelle's death."

"I don't understand... are you saying..."

"Yes, I am." His openness surprised her. "A terrorist by the name of Stephen Saunders made several demands, threatening to release a deadly disease called the Cordilla virus if I didn't comply. Your husband's death was one of them."

She didn't have the heart to correct him again. The thought didn't even cross her mind. "How many would have died?"

"It's impossible to say," he threw his hands up in frustration. "Millions."

She bit her lip and stammered, "It's a million lives or one."

"That's no excuse!" he snarled. "I may as well have pulled the trigger myself."

Taking a deep breath, Ali continued, still in a daze, "Ryan never tried to be a hero. He never even pretended to be one. He just did his job for whatever it was worth. If anything he would have wanted to go out this way... For his country."

"I'm not exactly sure how to apologize for this," President Palmer admitted, "But Saunders is in custody, and I assure you that will pay for his actions." Retribution would strike Saunders hard if Palmer had anything to do with it.

"I'm not saying I'm happy with your decision... but you chose the greater good, and I respect that," she stuttered, resolve melting away.

He laid a massive but kind hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

After the achingly long service dragged on and on, the eulogy was wrapped up. As people started to file out, Ali finally mustered up the courage to approach the body – Ryan looked more peaceful lying there than she had ever seen him in life. His mouth lacked its eternal sardonic smirk, his deep blue eyes were closed, and even his slightly lopsided nose which she had once thought "the cutest thing ever" seemed relaxed. She remembered the good old days when they were young and happy – when he used to smile.

But that wasn't what shocked her. There, on the hands folded neatly on his chest, a silver ring gleamed in the light. She hadn't thought he would still be wearing it. Glancing down at her own finger, ringless, a pang of guilt swept over her. Maybe he still loved her. Maybe she should have given him another chance.

And if deep down underneath the sarcastic attitude he was still the Ryan she once fell in love with, maybe he might forgive her.


End file.
